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Regina watched a seagull sweep out of the sky and onto the sea, rippling the surface of the water in the dock. She sighed. The thick smell of gasoline and seasalt hung in the air.
Her conversation with Emma replayed itself in her head for the hundredth time.
“Where am I?” Regina had asked Emma, they’d been at the loft, Snow and David, Emma’s parents, looking particularly grim.
Emma had told them of a vision she’d been having, a dark robed figure would hunt her, duel her, and kill her.
In the vision, Emma’s family watched on, powerless. They were all in there, her parents, her son, her..boyfriend.
Yet, Regina was missing. She had come to consider herself part of the saviors’ family, after all, they shared a son.
“Where am I?” She’d asked Emma, concern furrowing her brows, and Emma had given her a guilty look, and shrugged.
Emma had continued, telling them of the oracle who had confirmed her vision, according to the seer, all saviors were destined to die fighting evil. Snow had clutched David’s hand.
Regina closed her eyes. She’d left then, what was the point in staying? She knew what Emma thought, knew what they all thought of her.
She, Regina, was the figure under the hood.
She was the one destined to kill Emma, the great Evil foretold to destroy the savior. Tears pricked at her eyes.
The irony of it all was that Emma had been born for the precise reason of breaking Regina’s curse. And she had done it. Not only that, she had changed Regina herself, brought her back from the darkness. Reformed the Evil Queen, Regina smiled to herself at the thought. Now, it would kill her.
The sound of footsteps on the wooden planks of the pier brought her out of her thoughts, she turned to see Emma’s blonde hair whipping around her, the savior clutched her red leather jacket close.
“Hey,” Emma called,
“Hey,” Regina replied flatly, turning back towards the sea.
Emma stopped next to her, silence hanging between them.
“I don’t think it’s you,” She said, when Regina made no move to speak.
Regina shrugged, “Yes, you do,” She said, “And the worst part is, you’re probably right,” It would be so easy, Regina knew, to give in to the darkness. Every night it clawed at her, begging to be let out, to kill, to maim, to destroy. She woke every morning wondering where she would find the strength not to give in. It was inevitable that someday, she wouldn’t.
“You’ve conquered your darkness, Regina,” Emma said, her voice stiff, and Regina admired her more than words could say. The woman next to her was stronger than she could ever hope to be, she had been through hell, partly because of Regina herself, and yet she stood with grim determination, never wavering in her belief that darkness could be beaten.
“I haven’t conquered anything,” She whispered, “I fight it every single day, Emma,” her voice caught on her name.
She shouldn’t tell Emma these things, Emma who was so effortlessly good, so brave and kind and heroic, how could she let Emma down? After everything she had done for Regina.
Emma watched her, green stare probing into the very depths of Regina’s heart.
“Then, I’ll stop you,” She said, “I’ve turned you away from the darkness once, and I’ll do it again.”
Regina wanted to kiss her. She knew it was all nonsense of course. This was going to be their final fight, Evil and Good. Dark and Light. Still, the assurance in Emma’s voice gave her hope, perhaps they’d find another way.
Regina let her head fall forward slightly, dark hair falling over her eyes.
She knew what the other way was.
“You’re going to have to kill me,” She told Emma, striving to keep her voice even.
Emma shook her head, “You kill me in my vision, if it gets to that."
“The future isn’t set in stone,” Regina replied.
“Exactly!” Emma said, her voice rising, “We don’t have to fight."
Regina shook her head, five long years had passed since Emma had come into Storybrooke, the town Regina had created to enact her revenge, and broken her curse. Five years during which she and Emma had become friends.
Maybe more, a small voice suggested.
She ignored it.
Emma had managed what no one else had, not even Regina’s father, who had died at her own hands. She had made Regina good. But none of it mattered, none of the sacrifices either of them had made, because, in the grand scheme of things, Regina was Evil and Emma was Good.
“Everything that’s happened between us,” Regina said quietly, “Everything that has brought us here, has been preparing us for this very moment, Emma,” She explained, “Dark and Light must face each other, in a final battle.” her hands clenched into fists, “We can’t escape our fates,” Regina turned to look at Emma head on, “I was born destined to become the Evil Queen, and you were born to become the Savior, born to destroy the darkness."
Emma looked away, her gaze lost in space, “The savior always dies, that’s what the seer said."
“Everyone dies!” Regina replied, “But light must win, you must win,” Regina took Emma by the shoulders, “For the sake of everyone in this town, for Henry, for your parents…” She faltered, “For me,” she swallowed, “You must win."
“Winning means killing you,” Emma murmured, “I can’t do that."
“You have to."
Emma said nothing, so Regina continued, “You said there was a duel, in your vision?”
“Yeah, we had a sword fight, they were much stronger than me, so I tried to use my magic but I couldn't,” Emma replied, her voice far away.
“Well lucky for you, I'm a very good sword fighter,” Regina said, her tone lighter than she felt. She thought about it for a moment, “or, unlucky, I guess."
Emma shook her head and laughed, a harsh bitter sound. “So, you'll teach me?” she asked after a moment.
Regina nodded, “I'll teach you, you need to be strong enough to defeat me.”
Emma watched her for a beat, her eyes darkening, “I don’t know if I can…if I can do it."
“You have to, Emma” Regina repeated, “Promise me you’ll do what it takes,” She whispered, taking Emma’s hands in her own, “Just like I promised you, once.”
Emma sighed, defeated, “When do we start?”
They started the next morning, Regina showed up at the crack of dawn (9 am) to the loft. Snow let her in, and she proceeded to push Emma out of bed.
“Get up, '' Regina ordered, way too awake considering the hour. Emma groaned and pushed her tousled hair out of her eyes. She checked her phone.
“Damn, it's nine in the morning, Regina” she moaned, “I'd rather die, I think.”
Regina knelt next to her bed, her face inches from Emma's “And you will, if you don't, GET UP!”
Emma rolled over, Regina's face in hers had sent her heart rate spiking, so she pulled herself out of bed and threw some clothes on. Regina promised coffee at Granny's.
After their coffee, during which Regina enthusiastically went into every type of sword, parry, attack and lunge there was to know, and Emma pretended to listen, the words flying over her head as she turned the vision over and over in her mind.
Regina finally stopped lecturing her and took her to the cemetery.
“Really?” Emma said, looking around at the tombstones,
“No one will bother us here,” she said with a grin, then magicked two swords into her hands. She passed one to Emma, who took it gingerly,
“What, real swords?” She asked, touching the edge of the shiny metal, it was so sharp she almost cut herself.
“Were we dueling with wood in the prophecy?” Regina asked, she flipped the sword between her hands, throwing it and catching it with ease. Emma watched her anxiously.
She'd used a sword before, to kill a dragon. The dragon had not been a great swordsman.
“So tell me, what kind of sword did I give you?” Regina asked.
“Um” Emma managed, she flipped it over in her hands, it was long and broad, and rather heavy, the hilt was simple and cross shaped. It was a sword. The classic kind. She looked up at Regina, who was watching her intently.
“A rapier?” She tried the only word that came to mind.
Regina rolled her eyes, “A rapier, Emma? What are we, 16th century lords?”
It was Emma's turn to roll her eyes, the lesson reminded her of when Regina had tried to teach her magic, by starting with Elvish language lessons.
“Alright, Regina, it's not a rapier, what does it matter? Let's just fight.” Emma held the not-rapier up and took a stance. Regina walked to her and pushed her arm down,
“It matters because you won't know how to fight if you don't understand your weapon."
She held her own sword up, “Can you tell the difference between my sword and yours?” She asked, Emma looked at it for a moment before grinning from ear to ear,
“Mine’s longer;” She said and winked.
Regina gave her a scathing look, “Be serious. Your life is on the line."
“It really is longer though,” She said.
“Fine, yes, it is longer,” Regina glared at her when Emma giggled, “Because your sword is a Claymore, mine is an arming sword,” she explained, “An arming sword is typically used by knights, while Claymores are used by foot soldiers."
Emma pouted, “Why don’t I get the fancy one?”
“Because, you’ll be fighting with a Claymore, and, knowing me, I’ll be fighting with an arming sword,” At Emma’s questioning glance, Regina continued “Excalibur is a Claymore."
“Well, what’s the difference?” Emma asked,
Regina beamed at her apparent interest, “Well, a Claymore is wielded with both hands, though you can get away with fighting one handed when necessary, while an arming sword–”
“Nevermind, let’s fight,” Emma interrupted, seeing as she looked ready to head down another long theoretical lesson.
Regina sighed, “Fine, take your stance.”
She walked a few paces away from Emma, then stood with her sword by her side, her feet shoulder width apart. Emma noticed she hadn’t changed her shoes, donning her usual stilettos.
“You gonna fight in those?” She pointed at her feet,
“And I’ll still beat you,” Regina said with a grin.
Emma cocked her head, then raised her sword, taking a stance she’d seen in movies, she looked at Regina expectantly. Regina didn’t move.
Emma shifted from foot to foot, feeling the weight of her sword. Had Regina said she was supposed to grip it with both hands? She sighed and cracked her neck. With a lunge she attacked, her sword pointing straight at Regina.
For a moment she felt the rush of victory, then Regina's sword clanged against hers, as she sidestepped her attack and slid to Emma's side in one swift move. Emma stopped, Regina's sword was pressed against her neck, her own weapon still pointing forward, useless.
“Damn,” Emma huffed.
“Patience,” Regina told her, her front pressed into Emma's side, so close that Emma could feel her breath on her hair, “Wait for your opponent to attack, that gives you the upper hand."
Emma shivered as Regina pulled away, sliding her sword away from Emma’s neck.
“Again,” Regina said. She pulled away and stood in front of Emma.
Emma waited. She copied Regina’s stance, sword loose by her side. As the seconds turned into minutes Emma shifted her weight,
“If you don’t attack, and I don’t attack–” Emma was cut off by Regina’s swift downwards stroke, she raised her sword just in time, stopping the assault. If she hadn’t the blade would have gone right through her. Adrenaline pumped in Emma’s veins. She pushed Regina’s sword off of hers, and swept sideways, aiming for Regina’s waist, who sidestepped the attack, and Emma pulled back just as Regina’s sword swished past her neck from the opposite side. Emma stepped back several paces,
“Regina, are you fighting to kill?” She asked, breathing hard.
“Not yet,” Regina said, walking towards her, sword raised, “But I will be."
Regina attacked again, and Emma sidestepped, dodged and ducked away from her, weaving between trees and tombstones.
“You have to attack at some point,” Regina said, between panted breaths.
“I’ll just wait for you to tire yourself out,” Emma told her, but she could feel her limbs aching already, and her reactions slowing. A few moments later Regina had her pinned up against a tree, sword at her neck.
“Your strategy would work,” Regina panted, catching her breath, “If you didn’t tire."
Regina didn’t let her go immediately, her dark eyes searched Emma’s face for a long moment, and Emma found herself looking back, her pulse quickening.
“Emma,” Regina whispered, “You’re going to have to beat me.”
Emma nodded, she knew that, she was going to have to kill Regina. But now, their bodies pressed together, it was the furthest thing from her mind.
“I know,” she said, it was Emma or Regina. Dark or light. As it always had been.
Regina pulled away,
“Come on."
They fought for a long time, the sun began to set when Regina finally called an end to their practice. Emma hadn’t beaten her once.
The next day was much of the same, and the next, and the next, Regina beating Emma over and over again. Until, one day, just as the sun was setting, and their last fight of the day had the two locked in a tight stance, Emma twirled on her feet, and suddenly she was pressed up against Regina, blocking her bodily.
She took her momentary advantage to slip a leg between Regina’s thighs, and with one smooth movement, Emma pushed her off balance.
They were on the ground, Regina on her back and Emma on top of her, sword pressed up against Regina’s neck. Emma grinned, elated.
Her victory was short lived, Regina smiled up at her, but it was a sad, small smile, and Emma furrowed her brows.
“Well done,” Regina murmured, her sword had flown somewhere behind them.
Emma sat back on Regina’s legs, she stared at her for a long moment, before casting her sword to the side and leaning down. Her lips met Regina’s forcefully, the taste of salty sweat mixing in with Regina’s lipstick and something else. Apples, perhaps.
Regina responded to her kiss, her tongue sliding into Emma’s mouth desperately.
Fingers twisted into dark hair as Emma kissed the woman beneath her with all of her force, taking in every sigh and striving to memorize the taste of her lips, the feel of her hands in Emma’s hair. A choked sob escaped Regina’s throat, and Emma realized her cheeks were wet with tears.
Dark and Light. Good and Evil. Destined to destroy one another.